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Wednesday, February 25th, 2009

Subject:Good fences make great flamers
Time:7:32 pm.
People (and by people I mean Paramedic, no one else bothered) have been asking me where the visionstone of Puddleby Players’ Bawkmas pageant: Darles Chickens’ magnificent A Bawkmas Carol is.

We’re not releasing it.

Our camerazo got drunk and forgot to press the stop switch on his visionstone so it lasts several hours. Not only that, but it finished with a big musical number. Now unfortunately due to the limitations of visionstone technology, music and speech playback speeds are not the same so our big song’s lyrics are hopelessly out of sync.

Our next big production will be a musical and once again there will be no visionstone available of this play. If you’re not there live, you’ll really miss out. These rare pictures of A Bawkmas Carol are all that will be released of our last effort:


Punisher's warmup act remains ever popular


And the political satire remains as scathing as ever. Even if its rare for a dar'shak to preach religious tolerance


Cast from left: Inu Teisei as Screwage, Stora as Future Screwage, Noivad as a horrible vision of what people will be like in the future and Miug as the Ghost of Bawkmas Future


A display of unison singing during the big finalé


The cast take their curtain call except Stora who... OH MY GOD... WE LEFT HIM FALLEN BACKSTAGE... QUICK, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE



On the plus side for those unable to make shows, Puddleby Players has decided to make some very short shorts out on location. We proudly present the first of these which can be downloaded here. It comes complete with a special behind the scenes peek at some of the shenanigans that went on during production.
Comments: Read 5 orAdd Your Own.

Wednesday, April 30th, 2008

Subject:Too much water hast thou, poor affiliate
Time:1:58 pm.
Miug, Inu Teisei and I were doing what we do at the start of every play rehearsal, waiting for Pun’isher to turn up late in a blaze of apologies, when we heard a loud poof and a man appeared in the middle of the stage.


It turned out to be our never-before-seen producer. The man who had been responsible for getting us the various costumes we’ve needed for previous productions. This time he was here to show off a brand new change to the way plays will forever be presented.

If you want to know what it is though, nyuh, nyuh, you’re going to have to come to our next play. Also he finally gave us official affiliation status and after inducting Miug and Inu into the group, Eldon became a member too.


Eventually Pun turned up and she joined the affiliation as well. In the background here, you can see Miug as the heroine of our next show and Inu as the name-to-be-revealed-later villain. It will be performed in one show only at the end of May sometime.


Yet Eldon still doesn’t know what’s buried in the Playhouse foundations
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Wednesday, March 19th, 2008

Subject:St Prue's Day
Time:12:10 pm.
We need an IC name for the holiday that’s just gone by. “Green Day” is already taken and although I’ve heard it called “St Prue’s Day”, if Prue is a saint, we’re all in deep trouble.

Anyway, by the time I left the library, there were already a whole slew of fallens in Tanglewood. Shiner organised the survivors, bolstered by yours truly and we fought our way through to the snell west of the Orga Camp, picking up fallens along the way, where we encountered a rare Orga Fearless.


Once inside the camp we heard a cry for help, after creaming a few locks we found a little green clad halfling called Grefo Toppa. He seemed confused at first and kept mentioning exiles who had long since left the lands. Eventually he spotted Althea and Afrit who remembered him as the old Forest Green shirt salesman who left in a chaos storm decades ago.


Fergar Egley, the remaining salesman from the little spot outside the OC accused him of being an orga spy, Grefo counterclaimed that for Fergar to remain unharmed in his location, he must be the orga spy. The exiles didn’t really care, just so long as they could buy a wider variety of clothing. And so, despite Fergar’s warning, Grefo started to sell shirts to exiles at varying prices depending on how expensive the clothing they were currently wearing was. I bought mine for 600c.


The trouble really began when Pe Ell started haggling over the price and refused to pay the 800c Grefo asked of him. Grefo stuck to his guns and Pe went back to town, brooding.


Next thing we knew, there was a trial starting at the courthouse with Pe Ell accusing Grefo of being an orga spy. Although it was something many exiles suspected, I’m sure that the dispute over the shirt price was really what motivated Pe Ell more than anything else to bring the matter before the courts. Pe Ell brought forward Wangah Rah and Fergar Egley as witnesses. Perhaps not the best choice. Fergar had a vested interest in keeping Grefo down in that he was a competing businessman and that Grefo had made the same accusation straight back. And as for Wangah, well… there may be one or two exiles who believe a word he says, but I’m not one of them.


Things seemed to be going well for Grefo until he totally lost his cool during his rebuttal. He accused the witnesses and plaintiff of being part of a worldwide Sylvan conspiracy against him. Sure, Fergar, Pe Ell and Wangah are all flower munching forest dwellers, but that was almost certainly a coincidence, wasn’t it?

Though a couple of us on the jury who already had green shirts considered the economic benefit offending Grefo so much that he went back to into hiding, we eventually found the case frivolous. Hoggle and I thought that it would be poetic justice if Pe Ell was fined 800c, the original cost of the shirt in question, but he was fined a little over 200 instead, minus whatever he used to bribe Wangah.


Grefo seemed placated by this and sold his remaining shirts including the one that he was actually wearing in the auction house, He was last seen wandering off into the forest muttering “1350” to himself, the amount Kerrah paid at auction. Maybe I got a bargain.


Much later, Benylin and I returned to the sales snell to see if Fergar had returned. He was visibly upset with the verdict and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had left in a huff. Sure enough, his spot was empty. I spoke with Ragi a little later and she said she could skry Grefo in the Orga Outback but that Fergar was undetectable, so it looks like we may have lost one forest green salesman at the expense of another.

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Tuesday, March 18th, 2008

Subject:All Fired Up
Time:9:54 am.
Some rare off peak excitement the other night (or day, depending on how you look at it). A whopping great hole opened up in the centre of town and fire drakes, beetles and all sorts of orangey-red nasties came out of it.

Not pictured Great Pumpkin, Gloria, Ronorag and any mystics safe in their academy napping while they wait for Tenebrion to send them a message

Off peak is a funny old time. When there are less than ten people clanning, those less-than-ten are rarely if ever working on the same thing, what with the varying degrees of ability and the fact that many just come out to ore/coin whore. It was good to see the whole town united in a common cause, not to mention the excitement value of an uncommon occurrence.

Anyway with J’nder showing how well she can brick, the drakes were taken care of and with some judicious uses of barrels of water, the lava was cooled down and the hole sealed.


My only regret is that the lava beetles were unchainable, that would have made the lava cloak prerequisite just a tad too easy. Must remember to get myself some champ toys one of these days.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, February 20th, 2008

Subject:The Tribulations of the Trial of Manticore
Time:11:11 am.

After a long and troubled production history, The Trial of Manticore was finally performed at the West End Theatre. That’s it for historical docudramas. The Puddleby Players are going back to light hearted, fluffy comedies after this. After a scathing political satire from our warm up act, Frozen Ham and Pun’isher, and some seating difficulties that needed to be cleared up, we got started.

Why is it that the spriggan sized guy in the theatre always ends up seated behind the greymyr?

In writing the script, I tried to be as fair to both sides of this debate as I could, and while the play was taking place I was carefully watching the audience to see their reaction to the portrayal of both sides. I was surprised not to see Salandra in the audience, no stranger to mystic controversy herself. We had corresponded over the subject matter and she was in town just prior to the performance. Perhaps she boycotted it.

There were probably more people from the anti-Manticore camp present…

…though not everyone was…

…and some people could have been watching a different play altogether

Nonetheless the whole thing went off with nary a hitch and seemed to be well received, the audience was smallish, even by our standards but had more Euro-clanners in the audience than usual who we felt were marginalised by the performance times of our previous plays. If we want the bigger crowds, we’ll stick to Bawkmas pageants and the like at the time of year when more people are out of the library. No matter how it is received I think it was an important work to have done. It has no mainland influence and is entirely based on Pudlebean history and I think that such things are important in defining a strong, independent Puddlebean culture, devoid of the cultural cringe associated with our separation from the Empire.

I think though that all the debating of the merits and deficiencies of Manticore’s character has finally been played out. At the end of the play, instead of empassioned debate about the issues, there was impassioned drinking and hitting each other with duelling swords instead, and for the first time, I’ll take this mindless violence and debauchery as a sign of maturity. While its okay to rehash the past, it’s best not to dwell too much on it.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, February 15th, 2008

Subject:Vale Roy Scheider
Time:1:43 pm.
Sythe, the marine morphing ranger, was clearly affected by the recent passing of a famous fellow fish killer. As a tribute he placed some megamouths in the town zoo by the Sentinel. Those of us in town the proceeded to act out the whole famous story.

Hoggle and Afrit show of their street performance art skills. We should coerce them into joining the Puddleby Players.

Then Crius got in on the act

Then the Megamouths themselves.

At this point I quickly improvised something on the tuborn along the lines of “/efefef” in CLTH notation. Now technically this is breaking on of the Bard Guild rules, even if it’s just going up and down a semitone, but it appears that the gods weren’t displeased by it.


Speaking of performances, the Puddleby Players' newest work goes on tomorrow, if you're an early reader of this journal make sure you come see "The Trials of Manticore". Details in Thoomcare and the Sentinel.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, November 11th, 2007

Subject:Tor-tuous Rhyming
Time:8:49 pm.
So animals have been going crazy lately. CJD? Perhaps, but Creutzfeldt-Jakob animals don’t talk ominously about harbingers and witnesses. I was present for one of these attacks. Actually, it was me who first sunstoned to the waiting world, but that’s beside the point.

I then sunstoned for backup, aarin' on the side of caution

Waves of increasingly stronger tors came to town from out of the Old Bear Caves. Including the purple variety from which the local doss house gets its name. We were by no means a particularly überish group so my darkite got a fair workout instead of me just tagging things. We fought them back to the first snell in of OBC and eventually found a creamy beige tor.


The same thing happened as in the prior rat, scavenger bird, starbuck and whatever-the-other-one-was attacks. On its death the differently coloured tor burst into flames, delivered a message and dropped a few coins for its slayers. Now I was informed that when the bloodhawky harbinger died, it dropped a horn that was picked up by an exile. As you can see from this visionstone footage, its Maeght that picks up the chest so if anyone has a bit of dead tor, its most likely to be him. I chained the dead harbinger, thinking it would make an attractive doorstop, however when it burst into flames all I ended up with was a singed chain. If there was no item drop, it may be my fault, like no strange looking stone if someone chains the magician, so I put out an appeal to every one: DON'T CHAIN THE HARBINGERS. Just to be safe I guess.

Congratulations, you have just won Clan Lord

Anyway, leaving aside all that, back to these mysterious messages. These have been collated in this Sentinel thread so I won’t rehash them all here but from its content we can ascertain two things about our enemy. The first is obvious. We’re dealing with an appallingly bad poet. Not just so-so mind, I mean truly awful. I couldn’t write anything that bad if I tried on purpose.

The second is even more ominous, the dead tor was called a “Harbinger of Torment”. Get it? Tor-ment. Not only is whoever is behind this an exceptionally bad poet but they have a penchant for puns as well. A lethal combination. I shudder to think that if the violence intensifies how much worse these verses will get.

Not that we exiles aren’t guilty of a bad one liner from time to time either.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, November 7th, 2007

Subject:Play it again, Samwise
Time:11:47 am.
Puddleby Players staged their third production. The process from inception to execution was incredibly quick, though the finished result may have been a little rough around the edges. It contained the three elements that I think should become the hallmarks of all future PP productions:

Bad risqué humour

Shameless advertising for our next production

Jokes at Daimoth’s expense

Inu Teisei, Largo, Miug and Pun’isher all did a bang up job and have shown real commitment to making the Puddleby Players work. It’d be nice to have a phantasmer as well for special effects as this would be one of the few times that particular skill would be really handy. Illora recorded a visionstone of the whole shebang including the after party and some barding and Pun’s “political” comedy beforehand. Thankfully, visionstones can now be fast forwarded.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, October 4th, 2007

Subject:Return
Time:12:14 pm.
Measle is now Clanning.
Measle has been studying for one year, 3 months, 9 days.


I'm back!!
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, May 31st, 2007

Subject:Now We Are Two
Time:12:02 am.
Four puddleyears ago I celebrated my exile day anniversary with a pictorial retrospective in these journals. Well, it’s that time again. I’ve been here for two OOC years now and it’s been an interesting time and I’ve accomplished a fair bit. Here are some some snaps of some memorable events that I never bothered to write about, reproduced here for the first time.

Oh bother!

Once, Eldon hid MaryJane far, far away. Then he put a chest next to her and we decided to rescue her after all.

Speaking of MaryJane, it was a year of clothing fashion statements. Whether the obligatory purple…

…or snow lemming healer swarms.

But probably the biggest change in me was my slowly, inevitably and reluctantly shrugging off my newbie status. While my tactics are still awful and I’m as clumsy as when I first arrived, the inexorable progression of library ranks garnished with the odd hunt has made me marginally better than someone fresh off the boat. Thankfully, I see plenty of exiles who arrived after me with far better placed ranks, and more of them so that makes me feel a little better. Still, I’ve spent a bit of time escorting people around who actually need me.

Like this guy. Sits quietly in town, never hunts. So I took him out and showed him a good time.

Or this guy. Though he didn’t like this turn of phrase and said something about shortening the life of portal stones because of my disrespect

I coached Haro as hard as I could into pronouncing “lyfelidae” because it turns out Josi doesn’t speak Haro-ese.

This was the aftermath of a magnificent chain run where I picked up a couple of foolish mystics who went unaccompanied to CD. Unfortunately, the orgas got me on the way out and we waited AGES for a healer to come out of the library.

Mind you, when one did, I fared better than some.

This wasn’t the only time I left town to end up food for worms somewhere, but once every so often, things went right on a hunt.
Woohoo! Jokes on them, we’re still alive!


The famous time we found the way from the greymyr village to what we christened somewhat uncreatively “East Beach”.

There were more. My eyesight didn’t stretch far enough to see all that fur though.

Though hunting isn’t always about finding new things and getting ranks. You have to remember to check out some of the prettier spots and just chill.

Of course, sometimes things don’t go as planned. I tried to get that spriggan’s purse. I really did.

And sometimes things go disasterously.

But despite the setbacks I managed to get some personal development things accomplished.

I joined the Rising Claw and Thoomcare Affiliates™. Two phenomenal organizations.

And I subclassed after hundreds and hundred of ore checks.

All in all a good year, and I can go off (soon) to my annual extended library stay pleased of what I’ve accomplished and with many memories and laurels to rest on.


Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, May 14th, 2007

Time:3:42 pm.
Well my research into the entity known as Magi continues. Like any research, breakthroughs often come at unexpected times and seem to often be just a matter of luck. A group of us were mopping up unusually strong Dar’shak and undine activity following an ethereal incursion on Ash Island.

I put forward a theory on how Greater Deaths are created

After making our way to the pentacle, Wangah Rah suggested we delve even deeper. Those of us brave or foolish enough to take up his suggestion girded put loins and watched him perform the ritual that allows Full Mystics to be yet another type of door opener.


We charged through the blue sparkly thing hoping that our landing would be reasonably soft. It wasn’t. Greater Wraiths and green jacketed dar’shak made short work of our little band and we were decimated. Wangah selflessly departed to bring in a rescue party for us as we huddled, fallen in the lair of our enemy.

This is where it gets interesting.

The wraiths and such circled around us, gloating, when they were rudely interrupted by bursts of flames. The creatures started burning before our eyes, not enough to kill them, but enough to provide distraction and discomfort. If the undine truly feel discomfort that is. My first thought was that a lavacloaked exile was there to aid us but none could be seen. Then, just as suddenly, we were, as one all raised with barely a skerrick of health left to us. We quickly fell again, but this happened twice more, the first two times, exiles managed to flee west and east but we all ended up falling again. The third time it happened coincided with the arrival of our rescue party and Rel’lim, Razz and others were surprised to find Althea and some of the stronger exiles still standing when they descended into the Dar’shak’s lair.

Note the slight change in the position of the bodies. All we managed to achieve the first time we were raised.

Just prior to his return with the rescue party Wangah Rah said something about the border between life and death going a bit screwy but I severely doubt he was behind it. It appears that within the Dar’shak organisation we may have an ally.

My thought is that it may be Magi himself. He already wears the black robes of a Dar’shak priest and is capable of resurrecting a single exile any where in Lok Groton. Perhaps here where the halls resonate with Dar’shak power, he is capable of raising an entire group, plus throwing deadly flames.

We were unable to press further on this particular trip but if I get a further opportunity I will return and seek out Magi, or whoever else this person or thing is.
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Monday, March 26th, 2007

Subject:Seven Girls in Seven Nights (plus extras)
Time:1:23 pm.
This is supposed to be a little black book of my various escapades with members of the opposite sex but I just realised its been quite a while since I managed to get any action, much less had the chance to publish it. Am I getting old? Am I slipping? There was only one thing for it, set myself an amorous task that would restore my self confidence and help cement my reputation as Puddleby’s premier ladies’ man. But what to do?

I was discussing this self imposed quest to some friends in town when the solution struck me like a ‘lock bolt…


That’s right. I was going to make my way through each race in a very short time frame, the contracted space would also offer me the chance to compare and contrast the different girls and see if the fit into the traditional stereotypes. Here’s how it played out:

Halflings are either bossy and officious….

… or sweet but ditzy.

Either way, halfling girls are just adorable. They were also the easiest to cross off my list. I had got through two before I remembered I was due for someone from another race. I get distracted easily

People girls are mad as cut snakes but are a sucker for a line.

Thoom girls are unjustifiably ignored. I have no idea why. Hredda can handle my potatoes any time.

Sylvan girls are the polar opposite to thooms.

Dwarves are fairly conservative on the outside, but WILD when they let their inhibitions go.

Everyone so far had pretty much lived up to their cliché so I could perhaps be forgiven that thinking the first human I decided to make some moves on would be the same.

I get the wrong end of the stick.

The next human girl I spoke to displayed the usual brusqueness I have come to expect from humans in their interpersonal relations though. What a honey!

Six down and the hardest to go. Zos. (or Zoa as some people say). I’ve previously bemoaned about how prim and proper they are. When it comes to sleeping around, zos have always been the biggest challenge. I was running out of time though and I hadn’t come so far only to fail now, so I girded my well worked loins and set out.

One of the problems is that many zo, Vagile for example, follow “Red Sonja” rules. It’s apparently a zo mating ritual. The girls will only give themselves to someone who can best them in combat. Unfortunately for me, word of my weak combat skills is already pretty well known. I regularly lose duels to people with half the ranks that I have. Probably because I went and got a ledger in Sexius, but I digress. It took me ages to find a girl even willing to give me a chance. Eventually I found one in the east forest who, while respectable, at least seemed enthusiastic.

Unbeknownst to me, she was just enthusiastic about seeing me lose the challenge.

Perhaps it was the woozy head that I had from the punishment received in my attempts at headbutting/courtship with this last girl, but I had the bright idea that although I specified seven races. I didn’t say which ones.


Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

Time was fast running out. I had scoured the lands looking for a zo willing to have a fling with me but to no avail. All the zoa I had spoken to were diligent about their approach to life, never stopping to slack off. If only I could find some zo outcast, given a job with barely any responsibility which allowed them time for a quick lie down. Then I realised that the answer to the final part of the challenge had been staring me in the face the whole time.

Success!

Seven out of Seven! With a couple of spares too. I hadn’t lost my touch in the slightest. I now throw down the gauntlet to anyone else in Puddleby to duplicate or better this feat. Surely there’s a girl out there who’d like to try there hand at all the guys. Someone might want to add unrevealed girls into the mixture and try to go one better than me. But unrevealed “girls” always make me think that there might be more than just their race they’re not revealing. Sarir don’t really do it for me. If I wanted a mindless automaton I’d make a play for a library Horus healer.

Measle signing out for now. Good luck to any that try to copy or improve my challenge.
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Wednesday, March 14th, 2007

Subject:No more ore whoring! Yay!
Time:10:14 pm.
Honestly, my transition from new, if stunningly attractive exile to highly acclaimed superstar has been nothing short of gruelling. Particularly the media attention payed to me.

I haven’t updated these scrolls for a while because every time something noteworthy happens to me like joining Rising Claw and Thoomcare™ Affiliates or hunting the brand new pods area, Paramedic scoops me at reporting my own life. Not only that, he left out me trying to outpun the grand mistress herself. What’s the good of an unbiased media if they don’t publish all the bits thrown in to make you look good.

We “relax” in the safe area

Deary, deary me. Those paparazzi are terrible. It got so much that I started looking around at other lands, but even there I found references to home.

A couple of well known Puddlebeans get name checked. Word!

And who can blame me for wanting to leave. My road to champhood, was making imperceptible progress. Four hundred ore checks down and while I had acquired a full set of –ites, (and some spares- see me if you want any) I had yet to achieve that elusive earthstone. The only person benefiting was Nate Autical who seemed quite happy to accept a dozen stones at a time to go toward a faster ferry.

Spawns like these en route to the savannah mines weren’t helping either

But the new found popularity has an up side too. I have previously bemoaned the ore collection process in achieving champship. Ore collection is best done solo and the champion is designed to be a group fighter, not a solo artist. Trekking alone through vermine slaughters and dodging east pass wendies never seemed to fit in with the ideal of the “hunt leader” that the champion was supposed to be.

As usual, I was dead wrong. Getting all the ore yourself is such a laborious process that the true champion quester is so much better off obtaining ore through his or her social skills. I mean, why hunt for ore when you can get the entire population of Puddleby to do it for you? Once word got out that I was following the champion path, the generosity of exiles astounded me. From near and far they came with iron ore for me to test, from Ratbane who offered his only lump to Animayshun, my main supplier, who offered me enough ore to test to sink a battleship. I now realise that the best, truest route to championhood is being well enough known and well enough liked that other exiles will open up their packs to you.

And so it was fitting that when I finally got my earth stone, last night, it came not from my own ore whoring but by a donation from Super Chicken.

Clockwise from bottom left: Balthite, Dethite, Darkite, Atkite and the Earthstone, for those who’ve always wondered what they look like.

It’s renewed my belief that Puddleby is well and truly the best place to live there is. So when I get the remaining fell blade ranks I need to achieve champhood, I dedicate it to every single Puddlebean that helped me on my journey. In fact, I think I’ll throw a party. When that transvestite, Master Champus says I’m ready I’ll post it. I may even invite the media. I mean, in a way I’m part of them.

Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, January 5th, 2007

Subject:The Adoration of the Magi
Time:2:35 am.
I had my first encounter with one of Lok Groton’s greatest unsolved mysteries today… and I got it on visionstone! Our group was in the Kismia’s Island Cove and I took out my visionstone to record the rare and beautiful land ‘toise in its natural environment. As we had just wiped, there didn’t seem like there was anything better to do at the time.

Anyway my focus was soon drawn away from the ‘toise and towards a cloaked figure staring right at me. He was there, then he wasn’t again, like he was flickering in and out of existence. But always I felt that hidden face staring at me from under the hood.

Magi is wondering why the rats have all ignored Sha’askar to eat me instead

Suddenly, the creature gestured, revealing himself not only to be called “Magi” but also male. Amazing what a little hand waving can do. Actually, I’m told a man’s sexual orientation can be determined by whether he waves his hands above or below his shoulders when dancing, but I digress. I felt a tingling sensation and was surrounded by a golden glow that I usually associate with mystic energy. I felt sure I was about to be teleported and started to mumble my goodbyes to my companions. Imagine my surprise when instead of vanishing, I was restored to life! I’m ashamed to say I was so surprised that all I managed to do was swing out and then immediately fall again instead of at least getting Sha’askar to the water which was just a few steps away.

…in the air like he just don’t care

Here’s the visionstone capturing the whole thing. First time on stone! A Puddlebean exclusive! (I think). I did some research on Magi when I got to the library and only found two mentions of him… I’ll quote the exiles involved.

“Magi - Don’t know much about this one” – Ton
“Magi – Who? Where? Why?” - Mjollnir

Hardly enlightening. Both quotes are taken from the dead ends thread in the Sentinel. He intrigues me now though. I still feel that face on me whenever I fall. So, in the hopes of seeing him again, I’m going to fall as often as possible. People I hunt with can attest to this. Maybe I’ll be able to get a word out of him next time. Perhaps I’ll write a tune in his honour to get his attention. (“I ain’t gonna work on Magi’s Farm no more” has a nice ring to it)

It seems strange that we know so little about such a powerful, benevolent force on these islands. He can appear at will like a teleporting mystic and can heal like a… well like a healer. Usually you’d expect such far reaching powers in the hands of our enemies.



Oh, and as for what happened to the land ‘toise I mentioned before, well…

Kirara culls the rare ‘toise “for research purposes only”. The results of the research… they’re delicious!

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Friday, December 29th, 2006

Subject:The play's the thing
Time:4:29 pm.
Largo, Pun’isher and I put on the bawkmas pageant this year, “The Wench That Stole Bawkmas”. It was written by the three of us in a workshoppy kind of set up over the course of not enough rehearsals. It seemed to go over pretty well.

Largo got the chance to speak in a fake sylvan accent…

…and Pun’isher got the chance to work through some deep seated emotional problems with regards to avuncular dwarves.

You can get yourself a visionstone of the show with this link, taken by a cooperative camerafen, Lorikeet. There are some bootlegs of the show out there too.

After the performance, Puddleby’s three most active bards got the chance to play some tunes. But not for long. The play was just at the start of a full moon so as soon as it was done, K’vynn had plenty of volunteers for a FMOCR but we got a couple of trios in. Long enough to manage to get this nice picture.


Snapping a nice shot like that proved harder than expected. I had a tough time trying to leave out all the duelling, afk snoring, heckling and pie flinging that happened all around us. Most of the music show looked like this…

That stage needs chicken wire

Puddleby Player’s next production is currently in rehearsal, a historical courtroom drama called “The Trial of Manticore” written by me with a larger cast than “Wench”. After that, Pun’isher’s romcom opus “Zomeo and Thoomiet – a Romance” will debut. I’ll announce play times closer to the date.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, December 15th, 2006

Subject:Fermented Fish Oil, Sodomy and the Lash
Time:11:20 am.
So I was ambling through North West Forest when I saw some nub in heap of trouble. Not bothering to see who it was, I charged on in and rescued the helpless person. It was then I realised that it was no hapless beginner at all but Stinkfist himself, captain of Lok Groton’s pirates and former admiral of the Puddleby Navy. I’m not used to saving the lives of powerful people or having them in my debt so I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

How not to fight vermine

Well, whenever I’m at a loss for words, I just stick a bagpipe or flute in my mouth to prevent talking and played something nautical. After a hornpipe and a rousing song about begging five coins for boat fare, Stinkfist made some throwaway comment of how he may have to make me Ship’s Bard. I said words to the effect of “I’ll tell you what, let me write a sea shanty and you can consider it”.

Sea shanties aren’t that hard to knock up and Lassair had requested some reggae only the night before so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and churned out a ditty. Both parties were suitably impressed and I have now joined my first affiliation: The Pirates of Lok Groton.

The unfortunate green colour is caused by seasickness. My Achilles heel in pirating so far

The song is only vaguely reggaeish so I might make another one more so. Smoking zu is such a rich subject matter.

In other news, I did some sums. Ore collection has long been regarded as a solo activity and a previous post talked about me zipping off to irony areas alone. I’ve changed tactics. It’s an all right idea for the übers that usually take the champ path but my defence and total lack of Troilus just can’t cut it. Nothing in my training at all is geared up for soloing

My strike rate was just too low and collecting ore by this method has been just too inefficient. So I have a new plan of action. “Measle Rules” state that if I get to test any ore my group finds, I sit out in any rolls for pieces of iron. This has immediately started paying dividends. I still have no earthstone but I’m testing for them at an increased rate and I may take less than a year now to get one now. Also, I’ve been able to hand over a ton of iron to people which makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Maybe it’s my increased connection to the earth but I’ve been scoring big time for metal on Erthon checks. This visionstone shows three successful pieces of iron in a row from three ores.

In one final piece of news, Largo was upset that I sang the praises of Bulgatra and Geotzou two entries ago but neglected to mention him. I told him that he’d have to do something exceptionally well to crack a mention. Well he obliged. In an act of pwnage that would make even Cody proud, Largo managed to take out everyone in our hunting party in the foothills except for himself, simultaneously, armed with nothing more than a shovel. An exceptional effort and one that deserves to be celebrated.

shovel pwns imo! i am totally untraining to shovel!!1!!!one!!1!

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Monday, December 4th, 2006

Subject:Hot Orcipus Night
Time:1:00 pm.
Well first off this is the time of year that people send pictures to Thoomcare of Santa sightings so here’s mine out of the way and over and done with.

How can you eat a lump of coal?

I swear, Bawkmas seems to get earlier and earlier every year, the turkey spawn’s dead are still cooling on the ground when people start talking about it.

My big news is that I have signed with Rakshasa’s music label, Fowl Play Records. He’s agreed to distribute my Puddlebean debut, “Hot Orcipus Night” through his scrolls. You can find them at http://rakshasa.ashensunset.com . Hit “artists” and my name will come up along with Rakshasa himself and the elusive Sir Vivor.

Me, midway through the “Crunchy Togron Nuts Suite” as used on the cover. Good Gaia!

Hot Orcipus Night is a live album with a mixture of old and new tracks on in including a piece played on a brand spanking new conch after that great patron of the arts, Garr, generously gave me a rare silvery shell. I hope you enjoy it and I do well out of the 5% from any potential sales that that nice Mr. Rakshasa has let me keep.

Being a solo artist is hard though. I’m tempted to break up with myself and form a band. There hasn’t really been one since Yokojaga broke up the Slyphonics. (That’s a lie actually they lost the religious crowd when Coriakin said they were “bigger than Gaia” ). Actually if Raks, or some other bard consents to do a dual album, I’ve just come up with the greatest idea for cover art. Hmmm. Need to track Rakshasa down and find out where my royalties are while I’m at it.
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Friday, December 1st, 2006

Subject:Pimping Virtuosic Performances
Time:11:25 am.
Most writers of journals use them to talk mainly about themselves… and this one is no different. For today however, instead of going on about how wonderful I am, I want to draw attention and praise to two other exiles and my admiration at how well each of them does just what they do.

First up, Geotzou’s kudzu ability. Well no surprises there to anyone that has ever hunted with him, Geotzou’s accuracy and innovation in his use of kudzu have already made him legend. On a recent valley trip however he surpassed himself. We had been hit hard by a backspawn and the unfallen remnants of our group were huddled in a safe cave waiting for the other survivors to arrive so we could heal up. Next thing we new, Geo was yelling at us to come outside. We found this difficult to believe but warily we emerged to find that he had set up one of the best zu shields you’ve ever seen and in no time flat to. I recorded a visionstone of it here because it was too large to fit into a single picture.

Our group admires Geo’s green thumb

Nice work, Geotzou. Props.

The second person I want to pimp for performed the single best chaining performance I’ve ever seen. Our group was in the volcanoey part of Metzetli Island when Afrit, our brick, got badly poisoned and the group wiped. Not all at once, mind you. We managed to scatter ourselves over at least three snells. I was fortunate enough to end up next to Creed so at least I would have someone to talk to but in a situation like that I started counting my coins and preparing myself for a long wait. Sunstone messages begun to flash but the only person who said he would come to our aid was Bastion. As brave and plucky as Bastion is, and as thankful as I was that was for him drawing attention to our plight. I seriously doubted he was up to rescuing all of us from so deep in, without even any details regarding where on Metz we were.

With no warning whatsoever that he was on his way, I suddenly heard a yell from the other side of the snell. It was Bulgatra and he was alone, armed with only a chain and his best pair of running shoes. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough to get a picture of him in action until after we hit the sea, but it had to be the nimblest, dodgingest, most accurate chaining performance you’re ever likely to see. He didn’t miss a single group member spread, as I said, across multiple snells. It wasn’t quiet for him either. He had vile crickets, Rudremau kittens and all varieties of cobra chasing him down from every direction but somehow not only did he grab our whole group solo in the middle of this veritable swarm, he was still a healthy white by the time he got out. Amazing stuff and big ups to Bulgatra too.

Perhaps the most redundant yell of all time. Another Obvia ledger holder.

I couldn’t compete a journal entry without hyping myself up for some bravura performance in something though. I don’t have the talent of Geotzou or Bulgatra but at least I have moxie and chutzpah, so here’s a picture of me cracking on to three women simultaneously. Enjoy!


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Sunday, October 29th, 2006

Subject:Van'na the White
Time:1:56 pm.
Well Tsrrin is upon us. The fun part anyway. As I dip my quill and put feather to paper, the fun part with the costumes and the candy is in full swing and the less fun part with swarms of undine is still yet to occur. I missed Keemhan this year unfortunately. A depository of his stories would be a great idea if anyone is interested in collecting them. Actually just leave a copy in the comments section of these scrolls, if you like. I’ll do it. It seems a shame that the wisdom of this terrific storyteller can only be heard by those lucky enough to be out of the library at the right time. Anyway, lot’s of dressing up is going on.


Soon after I arrived in town a group of exiles turned up from a Jades rescue. Lassair was amongst them and was in a fairly annoyed mood over something that happened there so I invited her to go for a quick jaunt to clear her head. The trip ambled along quite nicely but she was still a little crotchety and harsh words were spoken about what’s brave and what’s foolhardy. It became quite heated and, as you can see, eventually came down to name calling.


By the time we got back to town though, we were the very best of friends again. Very, very good friends. (Lassair is so going to lynch me when she reads this)

Kids, here’s another one you don’t want to get your parents to explain to you

I followed that up with an all singing, all dancing FMOCR in full costume. A smallish but powerful group (well powerful except for me) took out the magician and succeeded in getting Ansset a shiny new plaything. Oh and regarding a certain discussion on the Sentinel, Lorikeet wanted everyone to know that the Horus healer did a mighty fine job of rodding. (If we’re still calling it rodding)

This little piggy gets something more than just roast beef

Finally, Bakunan speculated here in regards to a previous scroll entry that Agratis Yttrane the Grey should have come back as Yttrane the White. Well, that may not have happened but thanks to the wonders of Tsrrin, I was able to channel the spirit of close relative, Van’na the White instead.

Here’s your hint: “A word Michael might use”



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Friday, October 27th, 2006

Subject:And this is the hell that is my life
Time:1:49 pm.
Well I’m going down the road to championship now. I’m ignoring the rat smashing and going straight to the ore collection as, as far as I know, that’s a more time consuming part of the process than fell qualification and getting the ranks. So I tend to turn up when no one else is around because that’s when you find the ore. Nothing like a jog through the t’rool mines and east passes with my weapon in its sheath to get some air in that perfect hair. A little ironic that championing is designed to be done in a group while rangering is more suited to soloing, yet the most efficient way to find ore is solo when no one else is about. Oh well.

Ideal iron ore hunting conditions

And this is the hell that is my life

Not that questing is really my bag anyway so I don’t really care if it takes puddleyears of work. I’d rather just hang out in the centre of town, looking good and if an earthstone happens, it happens.

While hanging out with a few people the other day, we decided that the Bawkmas Pageant was well overdue for revival. I’m pleased to announce that “The Wench That Stole Bawkmas” is now in pre-pre-pre-preproduction. We’d love to have some more people on board, particularly some phantasmists so we can incorporate some special effects into the show. If you want to be in on the fun, contact Largo, Pun’isher or myself if you see us in the lands.


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